


Unfinished Peanut Butter

by MaK



Category: Grojband
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 02:30:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1493374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaK/pseuds/MaK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An almost Kontrina fic I found in my drafts but never really finished.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfinished Peanut Butter

She was able to put up with her brother's gross music.

She could even put up with his even worse singing.

She could barely stand the solos from his friends, but she did it.

But, what Trina Riffin could not put up with, was one of them coming upstairs. She had made sure that they had everything they could possibly need in the garage so they wouldn't feel the need to come any closer to her room than they already were. As soon as she heard the footsteps, she was already prepared to throw someone off the balcony. The drummer, Kon or whatever, was yelling to her brother that he was going to find some peanut butter in the actual kitchen. Accidentally snapping her pencil, Trina got up and went to confront the bloke for entering her territory.

He was rummaging through the fridge and cabinets without even noticing her. She rolled her eyes and wondered how someone could be nearly as disgusting as her brother as this guy was. Trina waited impatiently for him to turn around and sense her defiant staring, but he was on the hunt for his peanut butter and she eventually had to clear her throat to get his attention.

Kon glanced over his shoulder and gave her a small wave, "Hey, Trina!" And then went back to his search. She frowned and wondered just how dense this guy could be. 

"Like, get out," she threw her thumb over her shoulder and pointed to the staircase behind her. "The upstairs is mine and you make sure Corey knows that him and his stupid friends aren't allowed up here. It's mine." Trina crossed her arms and jutted out her hip, daring him to question her logic.

He gave her a lopsided grin and asked, "Isn't his room up here, too? I didn't think he'd sleep in the garage. That'd be awful cold." She made a sour face at the memory of her brother actually being allowed anywhere but the garage ever, but pushed the thought aside for now. 

"Whatever. Just get out of my kitchen and tell Corey he's not allowed up here!" Trina demanded, glaring hard at the drummer. He was nearly another foot taller than her and it made her grimace harder to deliver, but she gave it her all and... was surprised to see it wasn't working. If anything, it only made her angrier and she wanted to slap him when he went back to peanut butter searching. "Are you, like, dense!? Out, you dog!"

"That was a good day," Kon commented quickly, not bothering to look up from the cabinets. Eventually, he deemed that area empty and went to look around in some drawers.

At first, Trina was confused and only furrowed her brow at him in more annoyance. It took a minute, but the memory of the dog competition came rushing back at her and it took all her will power not to slap herself in the face out of secondhand embarrassment. "We super don't talk about that," she retorted, stomping her foot. She never wanted to think about the day she actually liked someone who was from her brother's lame band. Even the mere memory had Trina gagging a little.

He laughed while opening a cupboard, "That day was fun, though! Your temper was a lot worse when you were thirteen," Kon added. She really wanted to slap him and tell him to never think about a happy event and her at the same time. It might make him commit a psychology sin and always make him think of her when he was happy.


End file.
